The Guide
by CatLady4
Summary: It was a dream vacation to New Zealand for a LOTR tour. But jet lag does funny things to people. What happens to a tourist who ends up with a most unusual guide for her tour? One-shot, complete.


I just have to write this down. I'm not really sure what to make of it, but sometimes putting the words down on paper makes things more clear.

I only now got back from my great New Zealand vacation and there is the strangest message on my answering machine (have I dated myself too much? Perhaps, but I do still use one.) Anyway, that is really at the end of the story so let's start at the beginning.

I always wanted to visit NZ. My mother has had a pen pal (Historical note: it's someone you exchange snail mail with on a regular basis) in Masterton forever. And when I say forever, I mean it. They have written back and forth for over **sixty** years! She would get NZ related items at Christmas; little Kiwi necklaces or pins, Kiwi calendars, that kind of thing. It always made me want to visit.

However, I never quite got around to it. I've been to a lot of places, but never there. And then LOTR was made into the three movies, and I wanted to go even more. My work buddies (male) at the time went on a motorcycle tour of the islands, but I had no intention of risking my neck that way.

A few more years passed and 'The Hobbit' arrived on the scene and reminded me all about how beautiful the country is. So anyhow, long story short, I went solo to NZ. I signed up for a personally guided LOTR tour of the country. I know I know all the sets (except Hobbiton) are long gone, but I still wanted to see the sights.

After waiting eight months, my twenty-two hours of travel ended at the Aukland airport. I am not a good long distance traveler and my head was spinning. As I walked out of customs I saw a sign that said, 'LOTR Tour Guide'. There wasn't anyone else around with a similar sign so I walked over. 'Are you waiting for me?'

The guide was a short man with dark hair. 'I believe so. You are here for the tour?' He had a slight, not-quite-New Zealand accent.

'Yes, I can hardly wait. I have always loved the books and movies.'

'They always do,' he said. Nodding solemnly, he led me out to a nice car. Still trying to keep my eyes open I followed wherever he went.

At the hotel, he kindly got this weary traveler checked in and even carried the bag to my room. 'I will see you at eight tomorrow morning. Don't be late, we have lot to see.'

Remembering what everyone always says about jet lag, I managed to set my alarm for two hours and fell onto the bed and into immediate, blissful sleep.

…..

Boy do I hate alarm clocks! I have spent most of my life leaping out of bed to get to work. I shouldn't have to do it on vacation! Dragging myself up and into the shower, I felt a little better after that. I spent the rest of the day wandering around the blocks near the hotel. It is all a little vague, but the whole point was to reset my clock rather than to actually appreciate anything.

It must have worked, because the next morning I was up and generally alert in time to meet Thorin (I forgot to mention his name is Thorin Wood. When he introduced himself, I refrained from commenting. I could tell he had already heard it all before) at the curb. When I was strapped in, he started the drive and we went over the itinerary. In two weeks I was going to go from Aukland to Queenstown. It was quite vigorous, but who knew if I would ever get back again? I could have stayed longer but the evil cats at home would make me pay if I was gone too long.

The first stop was Hobbiton. It had been torn down after LOTR but when they rebuilt it for _Hobbit,_ the farmer knew he had a gold mine and it was made into a tourist Mecca. I loved seeing it. I could almost see the hobbits and their country life. After lots of pictures and the official tour, we moved on.

The next leg involved a bit of driving and Thorin, who had been quiet, started to ask a few questions. 'So, big LOTR's fan I take it?' He sounded tired. It must get boring listening to the same _Oohs_ and _Aahs_ over and over and over (and over) again.

'Yes, of course. The books have been favorites of mine since I was twelve, and now of course there are the movies.' I replied.

He nodded. 'Which character is your favorite? Some elf I suppose.' Now he sounded truly world-weary.

'Hmm. For the LOTR's, I can honestly say I don't have a favorite. It is such a great ensemble; I never can remember trying to latch onto any one in particular. As for the elves, I have always wondered why everyone goes so gaga over them. I mean, they are very regal and honorable and all, but they seem a little, well, not to be rude, but snooty and distant. _Ooooh, I'm immortal and have such an elegant worldview!_' I rolled my eyes a bit on the 'ooh' and laughed.

Thorin tilted his head a bit and smiled a real smile for the first time. 'So no favorite characters at all? What about _The Hobbit_? You seemed to enjoy Hobbiton quite a bit and I heard you asking about the hobbit movies. Do you like them too?'

'Well, I have a confession to make. I loved the first one, the second was okay but I dread the third.'

He had not expected this answer. Most of the tourists loved, loved, _loved_ everything PJ did. 'That's odd. Lots of people don't like the first one; too much information and all that.'

'I guess with age comes wisdom, Thorin. The first movie actually told a story. The second one seemed more like a car chase and video game than a tale. I think it was made for the younger crowd that doesn't want to be bothered with a pesky plot. I did like Tauriel. I had my doubts, but she really added to the story. It was nice to see another strong female lead.'

I didn't tell him this, but I also _really_ like Thorin Oakenshield. I saw in a video that at first they made him really dwarvish. You know: big nose, lots older and more angry looking. They decided they needed sexier dwarves and voila! Thorin, Fili and Kili are reborn as hot dwarves!

'And why do you dread the third?' He looked a little sad. Why, I have no idea.

'Well isn't it obvious? Tolkien goes off the deep end and kills the dwarves! Hated it as a kid and _really_ hate it now. I mean, they go through all those trials and then he does them in at the very end. He could have done a better job if you ask me. Redemption and life is a much better story than redemption and death. And what did poor Kili and Fili do to deserve the axe? Maybe PJ saves one or two of them in the end, but I doubt it will be Thorin. He's the one I really hate to see die. I am planning a three hanky solo viewing.'

Thorin glanced over at me. 'You sound quite intense. Most people can't wait for a little bloodshed.'

'In my younger day, I suppose I might have been okay with it, but the world has become such a sorry mess, I avoid mayhem at all costs. I almost never go to a movie these days. They are either blood and gore or sappy improbable love. Neither appeals to me much. At least when the dwarves die, their blood won't be splashed all over everything. PJ's good about that.'

'Too bad more people don't feel as you do. I have had enough bloodshed myself.' He seemed to get rather reflective and we drove on with the conversation turned more to the landscape than the tale.

….

The next morning we were off to Trollshaw Forest. 'Are you glued to your itinerary or is there any wiggle room?' Thorin asked as we got in the car.

'Not really. The travel agency set it up and since I knew all the sets and stuff were gone, it sounded good to me. Why do you ask?'

'Because you sound like a more discerning traveler than some I meet. I have access to some spots that are not usually on the ordinary itinerary if you are up to it.' He raised one eyebrow and gave me a questioning look.

Normally I am rather reserved in my actions, but I had decided to be bold on this one trip. I wasn't getting any younger and someday I might not be able to do the things I could right now. 'Feel free to show me what you like. I'm up for anything.'

We arrived at Trollshaw Forest and left the car. 'It is a bit of a hike, but the private scenery is worth it.' Thorin led the way down a tree-shaded path. After about twenty minutes, we came to a log over the path. Thorin climbed on top and reached down to help me. I took his hand and as I stepped up, I felt a bit lightheaded. He steadied me and then set me down on the other side. It may have been my imagination, but it seemed as though the light was different. I hoped I wasn't going to experience the fainting spells I had a few years back. They would come on without warning and I would find myself out cold on the floor.

Walking a little further on, we rounded a corner and I saw them! The three troll statues! 'But I thought those would have been made out of Styrofoam and destroyed after the filming!' Running my hand over Bert's head, I could tell he was truly made of stone. 'Is this another tourist thing they added?'

Thorin seemed to ignore my question. 'They stand here as a warning not to forget one's allotted time on earth and to use what you are given wisely,' he said cryptically. When I tried to take a picture, he put out his hand. 'No photos. This is private land and the owner doesn't want it to be common knowledge.' I put the camera away and found myself enjoying the moment without getting distracted trying to take the perfect picture, something I had been guilty of in the past.

We started the hike back and once again reached the log. We crossed it and I was amazed when rain began to fall within just a minute or two. The sun had been shining on the other side and now it was pouring.

'That's the way the weather is here. Sunny one minute, raining the next,' Thorin said as he hauled an umbrella out of his pack.

….

Over the next few days, I saw some beautiful scenery. I had thrown away the itinerary. Each day, Thorin took me somewhere that wasn't open to the public or was deemed mostly inaccessible. It was funny. I had watched every last minute of the LOTR commentaries and extras on the director's cut DVD. I don't ever try to commit a bunch of trivia to my brain anymore (the hard-drive being mostly full by now) but I could have sworn that some of the things I saw were supposed to have been composites or only CGI and matte. Probably just more evidence of my impending old age.

I really liked Thorin. He could be a bit gloomy at times, and the incident with the sheep was a little scary. Sheep you ask? Well, in NZ, sheep rule the roads. I knew that even before I went. If a giant flock is crossing the road, you get to wait. And wait, and wait. Thorin is _not_ a good waiter. One day, we came around a bend and there was an enormous flock crossing the road. Fleece here, fleece there, fleece, fleece everywhere. I was rather enchanted by the sight. You don't see _that_ sixty miles west of Chicago!

At first, Thorin sat quietly, but after about five minutes I could see his fingers were clenching the steering wheel. Then after another five minutes, he started to mutter imprecations under his breath. Five minutes more and the words were no longer muttered. 'Damnable sheep, how many are there?!' He revved the engine and looked like he was about to commit sheep murder.

'It's alright. We have plenty of time. All this is new to me,' I said.

'There is much I want to show you. We don't have time to wait for them!'

'I'm pretty sure if you plow through them, we will be a lot more delayed. And look, here's the end now!' The last thirty sheep came over a little rise and crossed the road. The rancher followed behind on his ATV and closed the gate. He gave us a jaunty wave and roared off after his charges.

Thorin put the car in gear and tore off down the road. His mood improved immediately. Quite a changeable character! The next stop was a wide grassy area with what looked like the infamous rock piles from the first hobbit movie. The one where all the running takes place and Kili shoots the orcs. 'I wonder what Tolkien would think of the hobbit movies?' I asked Thorin. 'PJ has taken a lot more liberties with that story than with LOTR. There was never any of this orc business in the book.'

'We aren't here for the orc chase. It's just a coincident. Come this way.' He led me over to a large rock. There was a fissure running down the middle and a narrow path to follow.

We walked for quite a way until we came to a rock fall blocking the path. Once again Thorin gave me his hand to help me over it and once again my head grew light. I began to wonder if I was starting some sort of vertigo thing. Every time I had to leave level ground, my brain complained. However, it resolved itself as before and we continued down the rift. Finally we reached the end and the most amazing canyon opened up before us. Waterfalls plunged down the sides of the steep walls. Rainbows created by the mist gave everything a mystical air.

'This is amazing! It reminds me of Rivendell, but I _know_ that was all models and matte paintings!' I could not tear my eyes away from the glorious sight.

Thorin stood beside me smiling. 'I always did like it. Even with the elves, Rivendell was a beautiful place. I am happy to share it with you.'

I frowned a little at his words but let it go. I suppose when you live almost every day of your life immersed in a story, it starts to meld with the real world after awhile. We explored a little further down the path, but Thorin stopped me from going too far. 'The path gets too hazardous further on. It isn't much different anyway. This is the best view.'

He eventually had to drag me away. 'It is so peaceful here. There are a few other places that have had the same effect on me, but none quite so beautiful,' I said.

'It is the nature of the place, but we must be going.'

As he started to help me over the rocks blocking the path, I suddenly turned toward the canyon. 'Did you hear that? It sounded like a horn!'

'I didn't hear anything. Come, we must be going, it's getting late.' Once on the other side, he walked at a very brisk pace. All I wanted to do was turn around and run back.

…

After the first two days, I invited Thorin to eat with me. At first, he said he shouldn't, but then admitted it wasn't against the rules. 'I am usually so sick of my clients at the end of the day that I really don't want spend the evening with them!' He smiled to take the edge off. 'In your case, I shall make an exception. You have been a most pleasant surprise.'

So over various dinners I told him my life story, and he told me of his life in NZ. He had arrived in NZ only a few years ago. He said he was a refugee but seemed reluctant to add any details. I saw no reason to push the topic. Some things are better left unquestioned. If he wanted to tell me, he would.

Of course we talked LOTR and _Hobbit._ He had some interesting theories on the characters, and we found ourselves talking later into the evening than we should on more than one occasion. 'I have a confession to make,' I said one night.

'What deep, dark secret do you wish to reveal?' I could see by the look in his eyes that he didn't think someone like me could have too dark a one.

He was right. 'I hate Tolkien's _Hobbit_. It drives me nuts how he kills poor Thorin and his nephews.'

He nodded. 'You have mentioned it a time or three,' he said with a smile.

'Oh lord, have I ranted about it that much? I'm sorry. Once I get started, sometimes it's hard to stop. But that's not the point.' I pulled out my Kindle and turned it on. 'I doubt you would be interested, but I have rewritten it a time or two.' I scrolled through the carousel and opened up the appropriate document.

He took it from my hands. 'You don't have to read it, and they're both kind of long. But it might be something to discuss tomorrow. I think we have done LOTR and _Hobbit_ to death.'

'Your trust is admirable. I know that sometimes writers hesitate to let others see their work.'

'Don't worry about that! I've posted both of them on FanFiction so at least a few people have read them. However, letting someone read it that I have to face the next day is a little different! Like I said, they are kind of long, so I doubt you will have enough time.'

'I do not need much sleep. It is a habit I formed long ago. By the end of tomorrow, I can try to have at least one done.' I knew he was just being kind. I really couldn't picture him reading my little rewrites. They were a little too romantic for someone like him I was sure. I winced as I remembered a few of the more risqué scenes I had included. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

Too late! Thorin stood and took my Kindle with him. 'Well, I had better get started on my assignment. I will see you in the morning.' And with that, he departed. I had to have the front desk give me a wake-up call. Thorin had taken my alarm clock with him.

The next morning he didn't appear at all tired as he returned the Kindle. 'I finished the first one_._ You really believe Thorin's good, don't you? That he had a chance at changing?'

'Why yes, I do. Tolkien did also I'm sure; he just got the ending wrong, wrong, wrong. I am trying to correct that! I did my best to retain some of the rage and gruffness. I think it is a valuable part of his character, but yes, I do think he's good. I think Tolkien much preferred the elves and gave the dwarves too little attention. Maybe he would have changed it if he had rewritten it for adults as he intended.

'You are off to a good start. I will read the other one tonight if you will lend me your magic book,' he said with a smile.

'Hey if all it takes to get another fan is lending my Kindle, it is a small price to pay.' I took out my adapter and when we were in the car plugged it in to recharge it.

That day's adventure was completely unexpected. Thorin drove us to one of the many car parks that pave over the world even here. Happy families climbed out of their cars with picnic baskets and headed off to a wide field. Ignoring them, he led me over to a path that wound through the trees. 'It is a bit of a hike, but I think you will like this. No crowds!' he promised. I had explained that I always preferred solitude to noisy chaos.

We hiked down an ordinary path through an ordinary wood until we reached an ordinary creek about three feet wide. 'Here, let me help.' He waded into the water and then helped me jump across. Once again I experienced the all-too-common lightheadedness. I took a moment on the other side to gather my thoughts. The sounds of the distant picnic area were gone. Peace and tranquility reigned.

Continuing down the path, we soon broke out into a wide meadow. Close to the forest edge there was a large cabin. Thorin walked up to the door and opened it. 'I'm sure you will recognize this!' I followed him in and stared. It was Beorn's cabin! Outside it looked like a large house, but inside! The furniture was about one third larger than normal. The doors were impressive and all the utensils and dishes were obviously not made for dwarves or ordinary humans.

'What is this place? Is it like the trolls where someone loved the story so much that they replicated it? I don't think PJ made this as a freestanding set did he? I know he has Bag End in mothballs somewhere, but this is _not_ the same thing!' I wandered through the first room. Every detail was perfect to a tee.

Thorin watched me, smiling. 'I am glad you like it. We can either stay inside or perhaps you would like to visit the meadow? I believe there may even be some ponies to see.'

Needing an animal fix after a week away from the cats, I chose outside. We walked slowly through the house because I had to stop and admire all the oversized items. At last we left through the rear door. The meadow was vast and covered in tall grass interspersed with a wide variety of flowers. The air was scented with numerous unidentifiable but pleasant odors. Thorin must have stopped in the kitchen, because he set a large plate of biscuits and honey on a table under a tree.

I felt a sense of peace settle over me. It wasn't the same as at the end of the canyon hike. That had been a sense of agelessness. This was different. It was as though all was right with the world and nothing would ever intrude to change it. 'I envy the person who owns this, Thorin. What a wonderful retreat from the world.'

I took a bite of biscuit. 'And now I have died and gone to heaven. This is delightful. What's next? Oversized bees?' The words had barely left my mouth when we heard a loud droning. However, try as I might, I couldn't find the source. Sometimes it seemed like they zoomed right past my ear, but I couldn't catch a glimpse. I made myself dizzy trying and then finally surrendered. Whatever they were, they were large. I accepted that they were giant bees that I would never see.

The ponies chose that moment to appear and all things buzzing were forgotten. They all had long manes and tails and the softest brown eyes. Several came over to the table to get their faces rubbed and ears scratched. Thorin cut up some apples and carrots to feed them with. And that was it. That was the extent of my stay at Beorn's house but I am convinced it was one of the best days of my life. Even now the remembered drone of the bees brings a sort of peace to my soul…

I don't know how long we stayed, but finally Thorin said it was time to leave. He cleared up our dinner plates and took them back inside while I said good-bye to the ponies. 'You have a most delightful home, my dears. I envy you,' I whispered in one ear. The pony gently nuzzled my cheek with her nose and nodded in agreement.

Reluctantly, I walked back down the path, stopping once or twice to try and catch a final glimpse of the cottage roofline. Thorin helped me across the river and once again my head spun. As if a light turned on, I realized it always happened when he assisted me over something and touched my hand. The sounds suddenly changed too. We had been walking through almost total silence with a few forest sounds mixed in. Now there were loud shouts and yells from the distant picnic area. They should have been audible for some time, but this was the first I had heard them.

I looked at Thorin and then back at the creek. I took a few steps towards it. What would happen if I jumped back over unassisted? Would I find a certain overlarge cabin or another car park? Thorin seemed to read my mind. 'Please don't.' He gave no other explanation but the look in his eyes spoke volumes. I shook my head to clear it once more and walked to his side. Sometimes, you have to leave some questions unanswered. He sighed and smiled as we resumed our walk.

...

That evening, I explained FanFiction to Thorin. He had never heard of it so I showed it to him on the Kindle. 'Fans rewrite the stories or create new adventures based on characters in their favorite TV shows, movies, books, etc. Some of the writing is very good and some of it is schlock, but at least people are using their brains for something.' He was stunned to hear that there were over seven thousand hobbit stories and almost fifty-two thousand LOTR!

'So someone sits down and writes a story and puts it online for the world to read? Do they get paid?' When I told him no, we did it for free (and maybe some nice reviews), he was stunned. 'I would expect to get paid for so much effort!'

I told him the payment came from knowing that someone had read and enjoyed (or not, only please don't tell me!) your story. 'Are they always about the same characters?' he asked.

'I have to confess to not reading a lot of the stories. First, I don't want to be influenced by other people's ideas and second, I don't have a lot of time. I tend to stick with the Thorin stories, but there are stories based on all the characters I'm sure. Unfortunately, some people will start posting a really good story and then the author never finishes it, so now I only read completed ones. It's too aggravating to get sucked into a good tale and never find out the end.'

He agreed with that. 'A good story always has a solid end. I presume your next tale has one?'

'Most definitely, I never start posting anything until I know where it is going.' We parted for the evening and he went off to read my second tale.

He seemed very quiet the next morning and it worried me. Finally I had the courage to ask, 'So… what did you think of the story?' I braced myself in case he hated it.

'I-I don't know what to say. You have written two stories and both times Thorin takes an alternate path. I never really thought it was possible before,' he muttered almost to himself. Seeing the apprehension on my face, he added, 'I liked it very much; a good amount of action but not too depressing. I used your Kindle to explore FanFiction. Some of them would make a seasoned warrior cry.' He handed me an almost dead Kindle back.

We headed out for another day and I asked, 'What would you write in your redone _Hobbit_, Thorin? Would you change anything?'

He didn't answer right away but finally said, 'I wouldn't make him so damn greedy. How could he not see there was enough gold for everyone and then some?' he asked fiercely. 'It should have been obvious!'

We headed out to the car for another day of sightseeing. He kept muttering under his breath but I couldn't understand what he was saying.

Once again we got out of the car for a hike in some woods. We came out of the trees and found ourselves looking over a bluff to a hill in the distance. As had become all too common, my head grew dizzy, but this time it didn't clear right away. When my eyes opened, I was still on the bluff but now I was lying on the grass. I sat up and looked for Thorin but he was nowhere to be seen. Instead, a tall blonde woman in a white dress stood before me. 'Now I know I had a seizure' I said out loud. 'I'm pretty sure the tour never included a Galadriel look-a-like.'

'No, _your_ tour didn't, but Thorin's does. I am here at his request. He knew you wouldn't want to miss visiting Lothlorien, but he cannot show it to you.' Her voice was soft and melodious just what you would expect of a high elf. For that is what she was, an elf. The ears confirmed it and the timeless look in her eyes did too.

'I don't understand. I've thought for the last week that something was a bit odd, but this is completely off the scale of odd. What do you mean, _Thorin's tour_ and that _he can't show me this_?' My head came up as I spoke and I looked again over the bluff. Before, the distant hill had been merely covered in grass and a few scattered trees. Now it was…well, Caras Galadon. 'Oh my go...' I turned back to the woman for an explanation.

'Yes, my dear, it is real, or as real as anything is. Thorin cannot bring you here because The Author never wrote him here. I am allowed to interact only because so many of you ReWriters have had me meet him in one way or another. He is strongest where he has been written into the story by the original Author.'

Confusion enveloped my brain but I shook it off. Like with Beorn's cabin, sometimes you need to accept the impossible. 'So why is he in New Zealand? My world?'

'Because of all those who do not want him to die, who hope for a better ending. So many stories have him surviving now that he can try and remake his life. You said it yourself at the end of one of your stories, _whenever someone reads a book, the characters live again._ Thorin has been given the gift of a second chance. He must discover a new path for himself and you are doing a very good job of leading him along it.' She smiled a glorious smile at me. No wonder people love the elves!

'But why me? There are thousands of, what did you call them? ReWriters? There are thousands of them and tons of them are far better than I am! There are eighteen-year-old writers that put me to shame!' I admitted.

She laughed, 'I will agree with that, but they lack something that you have! You believe deep in your heart that The Author was wrong! Many of them only use it for a plot device; you truly wish for him to live. There are others who feel the same way, of course, but they have not found their way to Thorin. You did, so you are now his guide.'

I tried to get my head around that statement. 'But how am I to do that? There is no magic in my world like there is here.' Even as I said the words I knew I was wrong. Thorin had at least a little magic. 'What must I do?'

'I cannot answer that. You will find a way somehow. I have already noticed a change in him over the last few days. Just keep doing what you are doing and we will hope for the best.'

We walked over to the distant hill and Galadriel allowed me to wander around Lothlorien. She said she could not come with me because her role in the story was so small. It was strangely quiet. I could see no other elves, but as with the bees, every once in a while I could hear the voices of unseen elves and feel them brush by me. It was an eerie experience, but one I was glad to have. At last the light began to fade and I returned to find Galadriel waiting.

'Thank you. That was wonderful,' was all I could think to say. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined such a place.

'You are most welcome. Return to the top of the bluff and lie back down in the grass. You will wake to find yourself back where you started. I wish you the best of luck with your task.'

I wanted to ask a thousand questions about _that_ little job, but I knew I would get no answers. Instead I bowed and smiled, thanked her again and returned the way I had come.

When I opened my eyes, Thorin was sitting by my side. My head ached. 'Did I faint, Thorin?' I could tell it was much later in the day. The sun was near the horizon. 'You should have taken me to a doctor. These spells are getting worse.'

Thorin smiled. 'You will be fine. You don't remember anything?'

I frowned and thought for a moment. 'There was a lady and a beautiful city but that's all. It is probably a side effect.' It seemed like there should be more….

Thorin reached out and took my hand. Suddenly my brain was full of the words and images of the last few hours. I caught myself staring deep into his eyes. I had not realized until just then how impossibly blue they were. How much pain and loss they showed. 'She said I can help you, but I don't know how.'

'By believing in me and writing your stories. Each one you and the others write makes me stronger. When I let go of your hand, your memory will fade again, but your heart will know what to do. It already does.' He withdrew his hand and stood up.

My head ached and Thorin was helping me to my feet. 'I must have had another fainting spell, Thorin. I'm sorry I ruined the day.' Little fleeting memories ran through my brain but I couldn't bring any of them into focus and then they were gone.

'On the contrary, I had a chance to sit and relax for awhile. It isn't something I can do very often.'

...

The rest of the trip flew by. We did many interesting things, and my fainting spells seemed to stop. On one of the last days, I was watching Thorin at lunch. I said, 'You're letting your hair and beard grow. It suits you.' His hair was down to his collar and he had a decent beard. 'You remind me of someone, but for the life of me I can't think of who it is!'

'I decided it was time for a change. My hair grows quickly and by not shaving I have more time for reading.' He lifted the Kindle with a smile. He took it every night and was slowly reading everything on FanFiction related to Thorin.

'Well, hopefully the ReWriters can work faster than you can read!' I said and then frowned. Where on earth had that term come from? I had never thought of the authors like that before. I shook my head and returned to the business at hand. 'My flight leaves tomorrow morning, and I wanted to tell you how grateful I am for your help. I want you to keep the Kindle as a _thank you_. Then when I write my next story you can get it hot off the presses!' I had introduced him to email and he had promised to keep in touch.

He reached out and put his hand over mine. 'I shall miss you when all those elf-lovers keep demanding my attention. Any fan of Thorin's is a fan of mine.'

When he touched me, I had another one of those weird spells or maybe it was because of the longer hair and beard. Anyway, for only a moment I had a vision that Thorin Oakenshield was sitting at the same table as me. Then it passed and it was only Thorin Wood, guide extraordinaire, pulling his hand back.

...

The next morning he took me to the airport. After my bag was checked, we went to one of the lounges to wait for the flight. I handed him the power cord and charger for the Kindle. 'I almost forgot to give you these, Thorin. It's kind of useless without it.'

He took them and then faced me. 'I have something for you.' He pulled the gold ring off his finger and handed it to me. 'So you don't forget,' he said.

'Oh, I could never forget anything! I will remember this trip forever.' Even as I said it, I realized that I was already having a hard time remembering some of the odder things that had happened. Or had they?

'Memory is a funny thing. It has a way of slipping away no matter how hard you try.'

I took the ring and slipped it in my purse. 'I will do my best to remember. Thank you again for a wonderful trip. I suppose you have another fanatic to pick up when I am gone?'

Thorin shook his head. 'No, thank goodness. I am taking a break for a few days. I have some more reading to do.' He waved the Kindle as he spoke.

My flight was called and we stood for one last hug. 'I like the leather coat, Thorin. It suits you. It almost screams 'dwarf'. I am sure your next clients will be impressed.

He laughed at that. 'Who knows? Maybe I'll be able to return to my previous line of work soon.'

I didn't want to leave, but the final boarding call came. 'Just remember, I hate it when Thorin dies. I still hope that PJ will go all Hollywood and save at least one or two.' I daringly leaned down and kissed his now bearded cheek.

'I hate it too,' he said. 'I will do everything in my power to prevent it!'

I turned and raced for the gate. At the door, I had one last chance to look back and wave. There must have been some character actors roaming the airport to promote the final _Hobbit_, because instead of my Thorin, all I saw was a fully costumed version of Thorin Oakenshield.

When I was settled into my seat on the plane, I took out the ring and started fiddling with it. It was just a little too loose on my finger. I would have to get it resized. My seatmate watched for a few moments and then asked, 'Where did you find that? The engraving is Khuzdul!'

'How do you know?' It turns out he was an adviser for PJ! How cool it that? One of the benefits of flying is you meet the neatest people.

I hesitated when he asked to see it, but then realized he was unlikely to steal it sealed inside an airplane. He peered at it closely and then recited, '_From Father to Son I have come across the Seas of Time. Remember_. Very interesting. Where did you say you got it? It's not a movie prop. The gold is real.' He handed it back and waited for an answer.

'I helped a friend find his way home, and he gave it to me as a thank you.' I slipped it back on my finger.

'He must have had a long way to go. That is a kingly gift!'

I smiled and leaned back into my seat. 'Yes, he did and it is.'

During the flight, I finally managed to get some sleep. I had the most amazing dreams. All about my trip, Thorin and some sights that were never on any itinerary.

So now I am home. There is this very odd message on the aforementioned answering machine. It is from the travel agency:

_We are sorry you were unable to make your connection with the guide we had so thoughtfully arranged for you in Aukland. She waited at the airport for over an hour before leaving. However, since you have made no attempt to contact us to remedy the situation, we will be unable to issue a refund for the services you did not use. Had you contacted us at the beginning of your vacation, we would have been happy assist you in any way we could. Once again, we are sorry for any inconvenience this has caused._

But I _had_ a guide. A really great guide! Who exactly did I spend the last two weeks with? I twist the ring on my finger. I can see that developing into a bad habit. Suddenly the memories burst into my mind and I once again taste honey, hear the drone of bees and the trumpeting of distant horns. I plop down suddenly on the couch and remember every last detail. 'Well, I can only hope _Thorin Wood _finally found his way home,' I tell the cats. And that is when I sat down to write this story for you. I still don't have any answers, but it makes an entertaining travel log.

_Final Note: _

_Even as I finished writing, the doorbell rang. I even remember telling the cats, _'If this was a real fairy tale, I would find my dwarf outside asking me to continue the tour! Wouldn't that be fun?' _Well, it was, he did and I will, as soon as I finish writing this last sentence and posting it to FanFiction….._

_PS Thorin says 'Hi' and keep up the good work._

_..._

_..._

**A/N August 2014: Dear Mr. Jackson, please don't kill our dear Thorin, Fili and Kili! Tolkien got it all wrong. There's still time for editing! (Although I hate to deprive Richard Armitage of his death scene, I am sure he will be phenomenal if it is required.) But seriously, save the dwarves….**


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